


Transmutation

by TheGingerGhost



Series: Like Walking on Broken Glass [7]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Dysphoria, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Discussion of Abortion, Dysphoria, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage, Implied/Referenceed Past Abortion, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Misao is a Bro, Misao the Good Doctor, Past Abortion, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Underage, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Pregnant Trans Character, Psychological Trauma, Repressed Memories, Self-Hatred, Self-Loathing, Sexual Violence, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Pregnancy, Trans Tatara (Tokyo Ghoul), Trauma, minor worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:13:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21595933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGingerGhost/pseuds/TheGingerGhost
Summary: A doctor's appointment brings up things best left forgotten.
Relationships: Houji Kousuke/Tatara, Shinohara Yukinori/Shinohara Yukinori's Wife
Series: Like Walking on Broken Glass [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1234712
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Transmutation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mercyandmagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercyandmagic/gifts).



> Read the tags, lovelies, none of them are a joke. Written for mrcyandmagic, as always, but also a gift for all of my friends/family of choice this Thanksgiving.

A headache throbbed behind Tatara’s temples.

The screeches of infants made it even worse, and the weather certainly wasn’t helping either. June had only just begun, but the weather was already oppressively hot. Or, at least, it _felt_ like he was slowly boiling from the inside out. In truth, it likely wasn’t quite as hot as he thought, given his tendency to layer constantly. Time and time again, Houji had tried to reason with him, but Tatara hadn’t hesitated to guilt his mate into backing off. His binder was non-negotiable, and even an order from a doctor would have made little difference. He needed that iota of mental stability, and would continue for as long as possible – aka, until the brats made it impossible. As for the irritant to his headache, he and Houji were seated in a semi-crowded waiting room. Though he could guilt the ravenette into letting him dress how he pleased, this much the older male stood firm on. He may have chosen Tatara without a thought, if it came down to it, but that didn’t mean he would back down when it came to appointments like these.

A nurse calling for them broke the omega from his thoughts, and it could easily have been said that he stood and crossed the room far too quickly. Not that he was eager for the appointment, of course. On the contrary, he just wanted to be as far away from the crowd of parents and little ones as possible, as quickly as possible. It began much the way any routine physical would, or so he assumed; he’d never actually had that sort of appointment before. With his height, weight, and as much of a medical history as Tatara could provide (Houji’s was more detailed, given his fairly normal upbringing) all recorded, the nurse left the two of them alone to wait for the doctor that would perform the rest of the procedures. While his mate offered him what he supposed was meant to be an encouraging smile, the Chinese male found his thoughts turning to what his alpha had told him about the woman who would be examining him. Almost as soon as he had thought of her, however, it seemed as if he had conjured her into being.

(Thankfully, by that time, his headache had mostly ebbed away.)

Dr. Misao Shinohara was a blonde woman of small stature, though her height belied the steel in her brown eyes, her squared shoulders, and the stubborn jut of her chin. Tatara would have hazarded a guess that she stood about a head shorter than himself, with low heels decreasing the gap just a touch, and the lines on her face (both crows feet from smiling, and ones beside her mouth that indicated she frowned just as often) made him assume she was about thirty. Houji had described her as no-nonsense and brutally honest, but also as fiercely protective and loving. He had also said she was the best at what she did, which was why they had made an appointment with her in the first place. Though she had only completed her residency a year before, the older omega was well versed in anything to do with children, from conception to when they reached adulthood and were no-longer her patients. Officially she was a pediatric surgeon, but she’d never done anything by half; the same held true for her medical training.

Brushing some of her bangs behind her ear, making both her wedding ring and what appeared to be clear studs catch the light, she offered them both a smile. The expression was wide and honest, though more than a bit tired, and Tatara found himself idly wondering how long she’d been working. He quickly dismissed the thought, when she reached out a hand for both of them to shake. "Kousuke, always a pleasure," she greeted Houji warmly, and suddenly, the younger omega realized why her surname sounded familiar to him. Upon realizing that she was Yukinori Shinohara’s wife, as well as the best friend of Kyoko Aura and Kureo and Kasuka Mado, he found himself respecting her more. Though he didn’t know them well, he knew that the four of them were very good at what they did, as well as being people that his mate considered esteemed colleagues. (If anyone knew him, they would know that the white-haired male didn’t respect people easily.)

When those brown eyes turned to him, penetrating and assessing, he almost found himself reluctant to shake her hand in greeting. Still, he had never been one to show weakness, so he reached forward and accepted the handshake. Both the fact that her smile never wavered, and the strength of her grip raised his newfound respect for her, as did the feel of callouses and scars. It seemed, though she had devoted her adult years to the study of medicine, the blonde had seen and survived her fair share of hardship. "I guess you’re the boy Kousuke’s been pining after for so long, hm?" He was surprised when Misao’s greeting was warm and teasing, and even more nonplussed by the squeeze she gave his hand before releasing it. Unsure of what to say, and not wanting to make a fool of himself, Tatara simply nodded. To which she chuckled equally warmly, replying, "Man of few words, I like that." A thought struck him, and it made the taller omega’s chest tighten with an emotion he didn’t want to name.

 _She reminded him of Fei_.

Before he had the chance to think on that further however, as he knew he would whether he wanted to or not, the doctor had turned back to Houji. Her expression went stern, her words brooking no argument when she spoke once more. "Kousuke, be a dear and get me some coffee. I’ve been working for the past two days, and I think we all want me to be at my sharpest for this examination." Though phrased sweetly, there was a steel in her voice that promised a tongue lashing if he didn’t agree and leave post-haste. "Not from the cafeteria, mind; what they call coffee tastes like bitter mud. There’s a café across the street that knows my order by heart." As expected, the alpha opened his mouth to protest, but a narrowing of her eyes and an unyielding set to her jaw had him complying with only a bit of reluctance. After a moment of silence, she turned to the red-eyed male with an open and frank expression. Her next words made Tatara freeze, stunned like a deer in headlights, unsure of how to respond.

"Be honest with me – do you want this pregnancy?"

It was a question he had been asking himself for the past two months, nearly three by now, almost on the daily. He had never truly examined the question, or the emotions it brought up, and was glad to see that she wasn’t going to press him for an answer. At least, not right away; it was clear Misao expected him to answer, but that she would be patient with him until he had one for her. After forcing himself to think about it, really weigh everything he felt as best he could, he began with a halting reply. "I never thought – it wasn’t - I didn’t _ask_ for this." The sick feeling he got when he heard his voice crack – pitched up higher than he had allowed it to be in years – forced him to continue, though it felt as if the words tumbled all over themselves in a rush to be said. "I love him," he’d never said so to anyone but Houji himself, "and I know he wants this, wants a family – a family with me – " The blonde held up a hand to silence him; though there was still steel in her voice, both it and her expression had gentled.

"I didn’t ask what your mate wants, Tatara. I asked if _you_ want this."

Feeling weak and ashamed, he closed his eyes, forcing himself to actually feel the emotions her questions were bringing up. First and foremost, there were terror and anger. Terror at how vastly this was out of his control, and anger directed at the same. But the terror extended deeper than that. He knew he probably wasn’t cut out to be a parent, had screwed up Eto already, and would probably do the same with these ones. Of course, his mind countered, he had Houji. Wasn’t a mate supposed to help and support him, when he felt like he was failing or inadequate? Yan and Fei had been like that, and he had no real reason to believe that he and Houji would be different. So, that left anger, and with it spite. Was he angry with the little ones themselves? Was he spiteful enough to hate them, to not want to carry them, to not want them to be born? He was afraid of failing them, but did that fear mean he didn’t want the pregnancy at all? Taking a deep breath, one he hoped would steady himself, he answered.

"…Yes. I do."

Saying them aloud felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, and oddly like tension that had been winding him tighter than a coiled spring had suddenly released. Opening his eyes, he found himself faced with a tiredly smiling Misao, though he didn’t have to wonder at her expression or long. "Alright, thank you for being honest with me. Once I have their mate – or mates, as the case may be – out of the room, that’s always the first question I ask. Honesty without the pressure of anyone else’s expectations is key to everything else, after all. I’d never force someone to carry if they don’t want to, damn what anyone else in their life might have to say about it." Once again, he found his respect for her (and, if he were honest, a touch of liking) rising another notch. Even in the present, there were far too many doctors that never directly consulted their patient, especially not if said patient were an omega with an alpha mate. That the blonde seemed disgusted with that very notion sat quite well with Tatara.

With what was hopefully the more emotional portion of the appointment out of the way, the older omega briskly moved on after giving him another few moments to collect himself. "Now, depending on what you’d be most comfortable with, I can do one of two things. Option one, I perform two ultrasounds; one for you to get a sense of what we’re dealing with and to process it on your own, and then a second when Kosuke comes back." At his questioning eyebrow raise, Misao laughed. "Don’t worry, the staff at the café know to make my order as complicated as possible. They’ll stall until I let them know to finish it and send whomever I had ask for it in the first place back with it." Then she continued in a more business-like manner. "Option two, I ask them to send Kousuke back now, and he’ll be here for the ultrasound with you." Stepping away from the exam table, she pulled out her phone and pager to check for messages, giving the taller omega time to think about it.

After taking a few moments to weigh the options presented to him, the Chinese male cleared his throat to get the blonde’s attention. Tucking both her phone and pager back into one of the pockets of her white lab coat, the older omega stepped close once more, eyes kind and smile warm. "I’d like the chance to get a feel for what to expect, before I have to deal with the emotional mess I know my mate’s going to be." She snickered in response, clearly knowing just what sort of emotional responses thee alpha on question could have, when it came to Tatara. "Smart choice, all things considered, though I think you know I wouldn’t have minded if you’d gone with the second option." At his silent nod, Misao gently requested that he take off his binder, eyes soft even without a smile on her lips. Clearly, she’d dealt with transgender patients before, if the way she assured him he could keep his shirt on and that she wouldn’t be anywhere near his chest were any indication.

Gesturing for him to lie back on the table, the physician moved to set up the equipment. In those few moments, the white-haired male steeled himself to examine the parts of himself he had been ignoring (or pretending didn’t exist, as was always the case when it came to his chest) for the past ten or so weeks. His binder had been feeling progressively tighter across his hips, but even though he knew why, he had willfully and stubbornly ignored it. Now there was no hiding it. The expanse of skin stretched over his hipbones, once much closer to concave than anything else, now appeared convex, the swell daunting despite looking seemingly innocent. The feel of jelly being squirted onto his abdomen made Tatara startle briefly, not having expected it, but at least the altogether strange substance was warm to the touch rather than cold (contrary to what the most cursory of internet searches had suggested). Stranger still, was the feel of the wand being pressed against his skin, as Misao inspected his insides.

A curse from the blonde startled him again.

"What?" His voice was sharp and harsh, reactionary. "What’s wrong?" What had he _already_ fucked up?

"'Wrong' isn’t the word," the blonde blew at her bangs, completely unperturbed by either the demand or the coldness in his tone. Biting down on her tongue to keep from repeating the previous expletive, as she turned away from the screen – was that the metallic flash of a tongue stud? – he was met with the same open frankness as had characterized the appointment thus far. "But, I have good news, and less than good news." She was frowning, but she looked more annoyed than anything else, so Tatara cautiously took it as not as bad of a sign as it could have been. "Which do you want first?"

He replied immediately. "The less than good news."

"Two litters is the standard, the average for most omegas." As expected, her explanation was both thorough and concise. Yet, when she continued, the words still felt like he was being hit in the chest by a truck. "You, however, seem to be carrying three – if not four."

The next thing Tatara was aware of, he was sitting up, Misao’s face was mere inches away from his own, and it felt like the room was spinning. It also felt like all the oxygen was gone, come to think of it. Her voice eventually registered through the ringing in his ears, after a few moments of her lips moving soundlessly. Focusing hard on her face, on the way her mouth moved and the intermittent glimpses he got of what was confirmed to be a tongue piercing, was what eventually brought things back a bit. Then her words finally took shape, rather then being simple formless sounds. "…’re okay," she was saying. "Breathe with me, Tatara. In, one, two, three, four. Out, one two, three, four. Again." It was a simple breathing exercise, but the repetition helped slowly ease his breathing back into something resembling normal, his lungs gradually remembering how to inflate and deflate. Last to return was sensation; she had a hand anchored on one of his shoulders, the other soothingly rubbing up and down his back.

When the vice grip on his chest finally eased away entirely, the younger omega ended up laying back down, boneless and exhausted. Once she was satisfied he was doing better if not completely alright, the blonde turned to lean her back against the exam table, chuckling dryly. Thee white-haired male realized that her hands were shaking, as she turned what appeared to be a lighter over and over between her fingers, clearly a habit to calm herself down just the way she had calmed him. Then she spoke, and this time, the sound of her voice didn’t startle him. "Well," she began, wry amusement in her tone, that he somehow understood wasn’t mocking in the slightest. "Gotta say, that’s the first time anyone’s had an actual panic attack on me." A coarseness had entered her speech patterns, something she didn’t seem to have the energy to bother with correcting, but one that made Tatara wonder all the same. Useless to wonder about her past as it were, as he’d never ask, he couldn’t help the idle curiosity.

Pushing it away again, and deciding to ignore her comment about the panic attack, the Chinese male decided it would be best to get them back on track. "You said there was good news, too," he reminded her, not surprised that his tone was mild and only a bit less than genial. "What was it, exactly?" _After all,_ nothing _can top what just happened_ , went unsaid, but was understood. Rousing from whatever she had been thinking, thee older omega pocketed her lighter once more, and offered him another smile. "Right, yeah, ‘course." As he had assumed, the rough, informal speech remained. "Even with everythin’ you told the nurse, the little ones’re healthy, growin’ just the way they should." Misao shrugged, smile becoming crooked and wry once again. "'Side from complications y’might have down the line, which I’ll tell you about when Kousuke gets back, I’d call you lucky." She didn’t laugh, but the same wry amusement shone in her eyes, as she reached for her phone. "Y’know, if y’wouldn’t _mind_."

Ignoring the teasing, Tatara found himself wondering how Houji would react to the news.

And yet, even as she picked up the device, a thought – no, a _memory_ slunk forth, from the darkest recesses of his mind. "Wait," he blurted, unable to help himself, as what felt like another wave of panic gripped him about the chest. Misao stopped immediately, fingers frozen mid-word and expression openly concerned. Quickly, she deleted whatever she had been typing, pocketed her phone again, and mad her way over once more. She stopped just short of where she had been to help him with his first wave of panic, clearly worried but unwilling to crowd him unless he asked her or indicated that it was alright for her to come closer. In spite of the slight bit of more distance between them, the blonde still placed a warm, firm hand on one of his knees. Tatara rallied himself around her steady support, helped by the gentle squeeze she offered, and steeled himself for dragging up a sleeping beast from the depths. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words, only able to focus on the breathing exercise to keep calm.

Then, concentrated on her steady hand and warm eyes, the younger omega began haltingly. "When I was – fourteen – " Almost exactly ten years ago, just shortly after his parents had thrown him out. Nearly immediately after he had joined Chì Shé Lián under Yan and Fei’s protection. When he was still young enough to believe his parents had been the exception, not the rule, and that his body wouldn’t give him away for what he was biologically. He had been very quickly disabused of that notion. "An alpha – she – I couldn’t – couldn’t _fight_ her – " If he hadn’t already been completely aware he were gay, then that certainly wouldn’t have helped any sort of delusions of bisexuality he may have had. Even with the older omega’s steady presence and warmth, he still found himself shaking, hardly able to continue. At that point, all he could hope for, would be that he didn’t start crying. He was disgusted with himself enough as it was, his stupid biology didn’t need to add insult to injury.

But when had his body or biology ever listened to anything he wanted? Never, and it didn’t intend to start now, apparently. The white-haired male did his best to ignore the hot tracks of saltwater now running down his face; he couldn’t devote any attention to it, or he wouldn’t have been able to continue. The anger beginning to burn in Misao’s gaze almost made him laugh, though there wasn’t anything funny about what had happened. It was that protective rage that gave him the strength to carry on. "When I started – getting sick," there was somehow more surety in his voice, though the rising waves of memory should have made it hard to keep speaking. "I had to – tell my siblings what happened." Taking as deep a breath he could muster, the Chinese omega forced out the rest in a rush, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get it out otherwise. “One of them went after the woman who – " He broke off. Even now, he couldn’t say it. "While the other helped me – deal with the results."

The alpha in question had been the current leader of the gang, so Yan beheading her had been what catapulted his siblings to first and second in command. Fei had been the one who told him what would need to be done, and who had taken care of him afterward. He had never asked the beta how they knew what to do, and they had never told him. Fortunately, the blonde understood what he was trying to say even with the broken evasiveness, and finished so he wouldn’t have to. "So you want to know if there’s any scarring, and if there is, how it’ll affect you and the little ones going forward." Her proper speech patterns had returned, and it was clear the need to focus on her words was the only thing that was keeping her righteous fury in check. Tatara could only nod, which prompted another squeeze of his knee, before she was moving away to the monitor again. Laying back down, he pulled up his shirt again and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see whatever her reaction would be.

Even if it would be an even worse reaction, he wanted a few more moments where things were – if not good, then at least uncomfortable but okay. The process with the jelly and wand was repeated, but this time with a different purpose entirely. Seconds ticked by, and the panic was starting to rise again, when the older omega spoke. "I know you don’t want to hear it," her voice was devoid of amusement, but he could hear the crooked smile that was likely on her lips loud and clear. "But you _are_ lucky." Still, he kept his eyes shut until he felt her wipe the jelly away, and knew he could at least sit up and adjust her shirt if not put his binder back on. (He was forcibly ignoring the fact that he wouldn’t be allowed to put it back on until the appointment was over.) Opening his eyes, he focused on her face once more, this time tracing the lines to keep himself from thinking too much. This time, he was counting the crows feet around her eyes, rather than the lines of worry or irritation her forehead so easily showed.

"There is scarring," she cautioned. "I won’t lie to you about that fact. The good news, though, is that it’s unlikely to adversely affect this pregnancy or any others you may have in the future." Here her smile turned a touch sardonic. "At least, no more than anything _else_ you have as risk factors." There were more things to be concerned with, of course, but she wouldn’t mention them just yet. After the first panic attack, and the close call he had just had, she didn’t want to tempt Fate until Kousuke was back with them. Her smile quickly gentled, as she carefully reached up to cup his cheek, wiping away a few tears with her thumb and offering him a tissue box for the rest. "You’ll be alright," she murmured, when he didn’t pull away or seem to mind the touch. For his part, the red-eyed male wasn’t sure how to feel about it, only that she was reminding him more and more of Fei. Offering another soft smile, Misao pulled away and moved to finally send the text that would bring Houji back with her coffee.

When Houji arrived, no-one commented on how Tatara allowed him to hold him without complaint.

**Author's Note:**

> Transmutation refers to the change of one substance into another.


End file.
